


Prompt: Loss

by thegirlwiththeironheart



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Agent Carter Finale, One Shot, POV First Person, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 10:08:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4475357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwiththeironheart/pseuds/thegirlwiththeironheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy muses on loss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prompt: Loss

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first stand-alone fic. Sorry not sorry about the first person. Enjoy :)

We all lost something during the war.  
Daniel lost a leg, Jack lost his humanity. Howard lost the pride that had come from building his inventions, and it was replaced with a crushing guilt. I was lucky. For a woman to be on the front lines of a battle, any battle, was unheard of. Most of my friends were supporting our heroes from the home front. I was lucky enough to watch the growth of a hero.

I say growth and not creation because Steve was already a hero, from the first moment he walked into training, half the size of the other men. Yet he was the one who was willing to give up his life to protect us all. After Dr. Erksine was killed it didn't matter how successful Project Rebirth was. They took Steve away, gave him a red white and blue uniform, shoved him onstage and slapped him onto the pages of comic books. The only reason he choose to come back into the fray was because his friend's division was captured. After that, the story of Captain America and the Howling Commandos wrote itself. There was no room for love in that narrative, despite what Dugan said, unless you listened to the radio show that talked about the damsel in distress, "Betty Carver," who always needed her hero to come swooping in to save the day. And really, Steve was taking love advice from Howard, of all people. He was hopeless.

So no. We were never together. To all the people that wonder what we were, we weren't nothing, we were...we were an almost something. Maybe that means he wasn't mine to lose to begin with.

It's not all bad. Even dealing with the absolute wankers I work with at the SSR, even with Leviathan and Dottie and the nightmare with Howard's stolen weapons. Angie and I are living happily in one of his many apartments. It feels good, to reconnect with the world. I've started telling her things, little things. Every time I try to tell her more I picture Colleen, my first roommate, shot in the head after my first encounter with Leviathan.

Jarvis entrusted me with the last vial of Steve's blood. Howard might have loved Steve just as much as I did but when he kept this from me, he wasn't thinking with his heart. He was thinking with the brain of an entrepreneur. Steve deserves more than to be a science experiment, even in death. He deserved to be brought home, but who could find his plane buried in the Artic? Howard tried, God bless his soul, but he couldn't, which only added to his guilt. This send off from the Brooklyn Bridge is the most I can do for him. So I take a moment to look at the sunset that Steve would never see, uncap the vial, and turn it sideways. My vision blurs as I watch the blood fall into the water.

"Bye, my darling," I murmured.

We are the dance that would never happen.


End file.
